


Snapshots

by Karios



Category: The Decoy Bride (2011)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Post-Canon, Romantic Fluff, Some Humor, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:22:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21807370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karios/pseuds/Karios
Summary: James and Katie's happily ever after filled with love, travel, writing, and laughter.
Relationships: James Arber/Katie Nic Aoidh
Comments: 15
Kudos: 35
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Snapshots

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OpalCowan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpalCowan/gifts).



> Thank you to silverr for the excellent beta suggestions.

Travelling the world is a strange way to find their footing in this fake marriage turned relationship, Katie realizes not very long after they finish kissing and reboard the ferry to their next destination. Was she no different than Lara dragging James along on her dream?

"Why are you here?" she asks him later that night in the hotel.

James laughs. "Because paying for two rooms would be unnecessarily expensive."

She huffs, frustrated.

Katie can see realization crawl across his face when his eyes meet hers. "I want to be with you. Wherever that takes us. Trust me."

She does.

* * *

A visit to Étretat delivers what Katie expected to come out of her guidebook business. The cliffside beach reminds her of home, and interviewing a few of the locals at Le Vieux Marché gives her a sense of the community.

"We're in the Hegg of France," James says as though he expected it all to be Paris, Lyon, and Marseilles.

"Are you insulting Hegg or Étretat?" Katie asks, cross.

"Neither. They have charm," James sounds judgemental, but he is secretly pleased with the carved wooden "Chez Nous" plaque he purchased from an artisan.

He hangs it in every subsequent hotel.

* * *

In Toronto, they go maple syrup tapping. James manages to slip almost immediately on a patch of ice, costing him one apology, the price of the bucket of sap he'd collided with, and most of his dignity.

Katie taps trees like a pro; the snow clinging her hair and eyelashes makes her look like a goddess of winter. James revels in the peaceful quiet that accompanies crunching their way through leaves and snow.

They both could have done without the loud angry goose who chases after them intent on their syrupy prize, though their hard-won souvenir syrup is still delicious.

* * *

"It's like a reenactment city," James exclaims as they stroll around San Antonio, Texas. Everywhere he turns there are Stetson hats, cowboy boots, and giant belt buckles that give the impression that a Western is being filmed somewhere nearby.

"I think it's quaint," Katie defends. "They're embracing their heritage."

"Heritage," he scoffs. "America's not old enough to have heritage."

"I suppose they'd look better in a furry orange suit then?" Katie produces a photo of James wearing it. He didn't know she'd taken one. "What great battles did you fight?"

He gasps. "Give that here."

She darts away with it.

* * *

Visiting Monterrey includes crashing a wedding. They dance to a song about raging in the streets and taking from the rich and possibly batting the sun. James doesn't pay much attention to the girl who is translating it for him: he’s too enraptured by the sound of the flutes and watching the besotted groom.

"We'll get there," Katie says, somehow understanding him perfectly even though he hasn't said a word. "For now, we dance." She drags him into the crowd, swaying along to the melody.

James wonders how he ever got so lucky, but he'll never let her go again.

* * *

They've holed up in a B&B in a nondescript suburb of London. The intention is to write enough to appease their respective agents and publishers: instead, Katie watches James make faces at his blank page. She joins him on his bed, then kisses him, then pulls herself across his lap.

"We're supposed to be working!" he whines. It's adorable. "You'll get us both in trouble."

She kisses his throat. "If you're sure you don't need inspiration." Her fingers trail across his torso.

Minutes later he shoves everything off the bed to make better use of it.

Deadlines can wait.

* * *

"What would you like to see next?" Katie asks.

James thinks for a while, then says, "Onion dome architecture. It's like ornaments glued to buildings. Christmas every day, buildings capped with bright colours, what's not to love?" 

Katie talks to the tourism board of Belarus, and books a stay in Minsk. 

The closest they come to the buildings is eating several packs of sour cream and onion crisps purchased for an impromptu supper courtesy of the airport vending machine once their flight is grounded due to heavy snow.

He's not disappointed. An excuse to talk all night; that's even better.

* * *

In the Serengeti, they go full posh. This splurge includes a giant whirlpool tub and the ridiculous thread count sheets. James swears he can differentiate the sounds of various wildlife at the nearest game reserve, thanks to all the nature documentaries.

The reserve itself is stunning, and they take all the photos they're allowed, forwarding on anything with big cats.

Katie's favorite photo isn't shared or in the guidebook though, it's of James framed by a halo of sunlight, grinning at giraffes in the distance.

"This trip needed more animals," James agrees with Katie's thoughts.

"That gives me an idea."

* * *

"Only a true moron would go to China and not see their cutest national export," decrees Katie.

"These pandas are an embarrassment!" James says in a similarly declarative tone upon seeing them.

Katie has to clamp both hands over her mouth to keep from laughing. "You've just been dying to say that, haven't you?" The question is muffled by her fingers.

James wilts a little. "Yes? It's objectively the best collective noun."

"As a joke though, it's unoriginal." She snorts and then the dam of laughter breaks loose. Several people turn to stare.

"I..."

"I love you, you utter dork."

* * *

When they return to Hegg, James takes Katie to the beach. No more flights, snow, culture, wildlife, or deadlines, just Reverend McDonagh waiting to marry them again. James kneels, singing an off-key rendition of "You Are the Wind Beneath My Wings" that is cut short by a cresting wave that topples him over. Katie reaches for him, but only succeeds in falling as well. 

"That was terrible," she says, not bothering to stifle her laughter. He starts laughing too.

"I know," James replies, tugging her close. When his lips meet hers, they taste of sea spray and belonging and home.


End file.
